The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 75

A total of 1,600 people participated in the District Nine Unified Exam, with 100 people assigned to each exam room. On the first day, the written test covered topics such as the basic operation models of trade associations, regional divisions, industry standards, ethical guidelines, review directions, and future development plans.

In one of the exam rooms, Cen Xiao happened to be in the same group as Du Mingli, likely because their surnames were alphabetically close.

Du Mingli maintained his usual relaxed demeanor. While handing over his phone, he suddenly spoke to Cen Xiao beside him, “There’s no question bank for the District Nine exam. Simulations can only rely on the scattered tidbits shared online by previous test-takers. But this shouldn’t be difficult for you.”

Cen Xiao’s fingers relaxed, letting the powered-off phone slide into the sealed bag. He sneered without even glancing at Du Mingli. “You’re that concerned about my background?”

Du Mingli narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at the boy who was more than ten years younger than him. For some reason, he felt an inexplicable pressure.

Still, it wasn’t enough to faze him. Du Mingli adjusted the new glasses he had prepared for the exam and sighed. “I really didn’t expect the close relative of the District Three President to come to District Nine.”

District Nine offered high salaries and great benefits but also a heavy workload and significant pressure. It wasn’t exactly the ideal retirement haven for a rich second-generation heir.

He figured Cen Xiao would have a much easier time in District Three, where his father’s protection was readily available.

Cen Xiao curled his lips into a mocking smile. “You came to District Nine with the lofty goal of rooting out corruption, yet you didn’t even prepare for this much?”

Du Mingli fell silent.

After a moment, he burst into hearty laughter. “You’re right. Fair competition doesn’t exist in society—it was naive of me to ask such a question.”

Cen Xiao had been planning to brush Du Mingli off and head to his exam seat, but upon hearing this, he stopped in his tracks. “You think coming from a humble background guarantees you’ll serve the people? Let me be blunt—people like you are more likely to lose yourself in the power you’ve never experienced because it’s too intoxicating. You’ve never tasted it before.”

Though his voice was cold and detached, it carried a hypnotic quality, as if in that instant, one could truly taste the seductive sweetness of power.

Du Mingli’s smile faded, and the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes disappeared along with it. “You’re underestimating me. That’s the arrogance of those in power, isn’t it?”

Cen Xiao: “Heh.”

Not bothering to continue the discussion, he stuffed one hand into his pocket and walked to his seat in the second row.

Du Mingli, however, couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease.

Even though he had responded calmly, Cen Xiao’s words lingered, prompting an unsettling question: If he ever truly experienced power beyond his current grasp, would he lose sight of his original intentions?

After pondering for a few minutes, Du Mingli shook his head, dismissing the thought. I’m overthinking things.

He realized with some annoyance that he had allowed a high schooler to provoke self-doubt about his own restraint.

***

The exam began promptly at 10 a.m. and continued until 4 p.m., with a half-hour break in between. Both Chinese and English exam papers were distributed simultaneously.

As Du Mingli had predicted, the written exam posed no challenge for Cen Xiao. Not only was he well-versed in the operational models of the united commerce, but he could also accurately forecast the development trajectory of District Nine—a skill honed through firsthand experience.

The lengthy exam tested stamina. The cavernous exam hall was filled only with the sound of pen tips scratching against paper and the frustrated sighs of those stuck on difficult questions.

At noon, most examinees put down their pens and headed to their lockers to retrieve their lunches. The noise of chewing soon filled the room. As more people began eating, even those who wanted to keep working found it hard to concentrate and reluctantly followed suit.

Du Mingli, not wanting to drain his energy, grabbed his convenience-store sandwich along with the crowd and began unwrapping it.

Just as he took his first bite, a glance out of the corner of his eye revealed Cen Xiao still writing, completely unfazed by the distractions around him. The way his wrist moved steadily across the paper suggested he hadn’t encountered any significant difficulties.

Suddenly, Du Mingli found his sandwich less appetizing. Cen Xiao’s focus and composure seemed to outshine his own.

As expected, Cen Xiao was the first to submit his exam, a full hour before the end time. Even accounting for the lunch break, he had finished thirty minutes ahead of everyone else.

This confirmed Du Mingli’s assessment: Cen Xiao was meticulous in planning and exceptionally disciplined. He preferred to give his all to one task before allocating energy to anything else.

Although Du Mingli admired this approach, he felt it was no longer practical for someone of his age to push his physical limits like that. Watching Cen Xiao’s speed, Du Mingli knew his written test scores would be impressive.

Since learning of Cen Xiao’s background, Du Mingli no longer hoped to outperform him in the written exam. His focus shifted to the physical test.

Du Mingli had always had a unique physique and athletic talent. Even at his age, his physical capabilities often surpassed those of younger individuals.

Tang He had once remarked that if Du Mingli had participated in earlier exams, he would undoubtedly have secured the top rank.

Tang He was a cautious person who rarely made predictions, yet his comment carried an implicit message: Du Mingli had the potential to come out on top.

Meanwhile, across the street from the Economic and Cultural Activity Center, in a small café:

Li Rong toyed with the spoon in his mouth, using his teeth to scrape off the remaining ice cream. 

His tongue slowly licked the cold dairy off before curling it into his mouth. He ate with an air of indifference, his gaze fixed on the window, unblinking. The only movement came from his arm, occasionally shifting as it propped up his chin.

Jian Fu, however, couldn’t sit still. Leaning against the glass, he grumbled loudly, “I wonder how my brother’s doing in there. This stupid exam with its signal blockers—it’s inhumane!”

Li Rong shifted his gaze lazily to Jian Fu. “To prevent leaks. Once the exam’s over, anyone with a good memory could recite the whole test.”

Jian Fu pouted. “Not to brag, but I could memorize it in three days.”

He had sharpened his memory through mental math training, giving him an edge over most people.

Li Rong raised an eyebrow, eyes widening in mock amazement. “Then why didn’t you register for the exam?”

Jian Fu looked baffled. “Why would I? I have no interest in joining District Nine.”

Li Rong smirked. “You could memorize the answers and sell them. With 1,500 candidates each year, selling past tests at a few hundred per copy wouldn’t be a bad business…”

Jian Fu stared, incredulous. “Is money all you ever think about?”

Li Rong shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Tsk. The crown prince of District One really doesn’t understand the struggles of the common folk. If you had to earn your own money, your head would be filled with dollar signs too.”

Jian Fu snorted coldly. “Spare me. You eat better than all of us, always ordering the most expensive ice cream.”

Li Rong made no comment, continuing to rest his chin on his hand as he gazed out the window.

So this is what it feels like to wait for someone, he thought.

I wonder what Cen Xiao ate today.

***

District Nine physical fitness assessment spanned two days.

The first day focused on foundational abilities, including crisis management, emergency planning, and external communications.

Candidates entered the interview room in sequence, completed their evaluations, and received scores on the spot from the interviewers.

This was the kind of scenario Du Mingli, a seasoned workplace veteran, thrived in. He excelled at navigating social dynamics and winning favor with everyone.

When his 30-minute assessment concluded, he received his score: 9.5, just 0.5 shy of a perfect 10.

One of the interviewers even remarked with some regret, “If you had a bit more understanding of District Nine, you could have achieved full marks.”

Du Mingli wasn’t disappointed. Based on his knowledge of past exam results, a 9.5 practically guaranteed first place in this category. He had likely outperformed most other candidates by at least a full point.

After their interviews, some jittery candidates exchanged nervous self-deprecating remarks:

“I was so tense. My brain froze as soon as I saw the interviewers.”

“Same! I don’t even remember what I said. My legs were shaking the whole time. The interviewers in my room were super intimidating.”

“Ah… did you run into the captain of the Ghost Eye Group’s team? They’re terrifying.”

“Maybe! If I pass, I guess I’ll end up working under them.”

“How did you do?”

“I got an 8.5. What about you?”

“Uh…8.5 is really good! That counts as nervous? I only got 7.”

“What? Ah, don’t worry. 7 is still solid. There’s always tomorrow to make up for it.”

Du Mingli found their chatter childish. Taking a slow sip of water, he calmly put on his jacket.

Perhaps his relaxed demeanor stood out, as two of the nervous candidates cautiously approached him.

“Hey, big bro, how did you do?”

The pair appeared to be under thirty, making their use of “big bro” somewhat appropriate, though Du Mingli found the term overly familiar. He frowned slightly but quickly masked it with a friendly smile.

“Me? 9.5. Not bad,” he replied.

“Wow! 9.5!” The 7-point candidate’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“That’s incredible! You beat me by a whole point!” The 8.5-point candidate looked on with admiration.

Though his earlier remarks had been self-effacing, the 8.5-point candidate was actually satisfied with his score. His comments had been more out of habit than genuine self-doubt. 

But Du Mingli’s score truly impressed him. The one-point gap stung.

Du Mingli wasn’t surprised by their reactions. His score deserved admiration.

Holding his disposable cup, he responded modestly, “I performed decently.”

“Decent? That’s the second-highest score we’ve heard of today!” The 7-point candidate turned to the other for confirmation.

The 8.5-point candidate nodded emphatically.

Hearing this, Du Mingli’s expression faltered. His fingers tightened around the paper cup, distorting it slightly.

“What did you just say?” he asked.

The 7-point candidate gestured ahead. “That tall, young guy scored a perfect 10! Super impressive. He looks at least ten years younger than me.”

A perfect 10!

In the history of these assessments, a 9.5 had always been the highest score. A full 10 had never been achieved!

Du Mingli followed the candidate’s gaze and saw Cen Xiao’s back.

Cen Xiao was checking his phone, his expression souring when he realized there was no signal.

Du Mingli suddenly felt his head throb, and sweat began to form on the back of his neck.

Could Cen Xiao have achieved a perfect score through District Three’s president’s intervention?

But if District Nine was already so thoroughly infiltrated, there would have been no need for Cen Xiao to come here personally.

Could this be Cen Xiao’s actual score?

How could a student fresh out of highschool achieve this? No matter how well-prepared his family was or how much insider knowledge he possessed, without real-world experience, it would all be theoretical.

Interviewers were notoriously strict with their grading. Unless Cen Xiao had been flawless, a perfect score seemed impossible.

For the first time, Du Mingli found himself unable to maintain his usual composure. His brow furrowed as he stared at Cen Xiao, his confusion evident.

Noticing Du Mingli’s unease, the 7-point candidate attempted to console him. “You’re amazing too. In any other year, you’d be the top scorer.”

The words offered no comfort.

What was the point of being first in any other year?

The 8.5-point candidate chimed in, “I’m sure you’ll get into District Nine with that score. Congratulations in advance!”

Du Mingli was struck by the futility of conversing with those who lacked his ambitions.

He wasn’t here just to join District Nine; he was here for first place and the captaincy of the Ghost Eye Group!

Fortunately, Du Mingli wasn’t an impulsive rookie. After a brief moment of anxiety, he composed himself.

With just a 0.5-point gap, there was still a chance to make up the difference in tomorrow’s combat assessment.

***

Night had fully fallen.

Realizing he couldn’t reach Li Rong, Cen Xiao tucked his phone back into his pocket.

As he descended the stairs, he caught sight of Du Mingli’s conflicted expression and clenched fists out of the corner of his eye.

Cen Xiao nonchalantly averted his gaze and smirked faintly as he reached the bottom.

Someone must have informed Du Mingli of his score.

In any competition, applying pressure was the most effective weapon.

Pressure led to frustration and mistakes—a common psychological tactic. No matter how strong Du Mingli’s mental fortitude was, he couldn’t be entirely unaffected.

Time flew.

On the third day, the combat test was similar to a chess match: contestants faced off in pairs, and the winner could ring a bell after the opponent conceded. Once a round was completed, new matchups were formed for the next round.

The reason why District Nine included a combat test in its examination process was that members of the Ghost Eye Division often faced dangers in their daily work.

With the United Commerce Association expanding its reach across more enterprises and refining industry regulations, it was inevitable that some companies would attempt to exploit loopholes for profit.

During routine inspections, members of the Ghost Eye Division often encountered threats and bribes. If they uncovered secrets that jeopardized a company’s core interests, they might even face threats to their lives.

Just last year, seven members of the Ghost Eye Division left District Nine. Officially, they were reported as resignations, but one had actually fallen to his death.

After a thorough investigation, the police ruled it a suicide, but internally, District Nine knew that he had been investigating Meijiang Pharmaceuticals before his death.

By the time the police released their findings, Meijiang Pharmaceuticals had patched up all its vulnerabilities. When the Ghost Eye Division revisited the case, there were no traces left to follow.

Now, with the Medical Industry of District Six facing dissolution, and the bureaucratic process nearing completion in a few months, the Ghost Eye Division would no longer have jurisdiction over Meijiang Pharmaceuticals.

The combat test not only evaluated skill but also tested one’s willpower.

In the final stages, the last two contestants would often be completely drained, their bodies battered and bruised. The one who could endure the longest would earn the highest score.

Cen Xiao’s first opponent was a fresh college graduate majoring in sports.

The young athlete, muscular and powerful, charged at Cen Xiao the moment the supervisor signaled the start.

Cen Xiao sidestepped and countered with an elbow strike to the athlete’s back.

Although his opponent’s combat skills were mediocre, his strength was formidable. Grimacing through the pain, he retaliated with a punch at Cen Xiao.

It was indeed a tough match, forcing Cen Xiao to exchange ten moves before pinning his opponent to the ground.

The athlete struggled fiercely but couldn’t break free, nearly twisting his neck in the process. He eventually admitted defeat.

Cen Xiao released him, took the wet towel handed by the supervisor, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and calmly rang the bell.

The first round took a considerable amount of time, so Cen Xiao barely rested before the second round began.

Fortunately, his second opponent was less skilled, allowing him to win easily and take a break.

Then came the third round, the fourth…

Cen Xiao wasn’t invincible; he couldn’t avoid injuries entirely.

By the fifth round, he could feel the soreness and swelling in his joints. His arms and shoulders had been struck, resulting in a dull ache.

But this level of pain was insignificant to him. It was only the sweat soaking through his clothes and sticking to his wounds that caused discomfort.

At the end of the fifth round, he failed to notice his opponent’s sharp nails, which left a gash on the inside of his wrist. Blood oozed out, pooling and dripping down his palm.

He disinfected the wound with iodine, examined the thin but deep cut, and, once the bleeding stopped, shook his hand and walked toward the next arena.

By 6 p.m., as the evening darkened and the heat of the day dissipated, Cen Xiao’s hair clung to the sides of his face, damp with sweat. His deep, sharp eyes calmly focused on Du Mingli standing before him.

Du Mingli was already at the end of his rope. Reaching the final match had taken everything he had; at over thirty years old, he was past his physical prime.

He looked at Cen Xiao and gave a self-deprecating smile.

The outcome seemed both surprising and inevitable.

Why did he ever think someone who excelled in the first two tests would falter in the third?

Du Mingli rubbed his swollen lips, his breathing uneven. 

Seeing Cen Xiao still breathing steadily, he knew that in a battle of endurance, he would inevitably lose.

Hoping to buy some time, he asked, “Have you thought about what you can do for society if you join the Ghost Eye Division?”

“No,” Cen Xiao replied without hesitation, casually flexing his injured wrist as he spoke.

Du Mingli froze.

He had expected a grand and lofty answer, a statement about dreams or ambitions.

Even if he wouldn’t have believed it, such a response would have been normal.

But Cen Xiao didn’t care at all and directly said he hadn’t thought about it.

Du Mingli thought he should feel angry, but he was too exhausted to muster any rage.

How could someone with no ideals step over him and rise so effortlessly?

Du Mingli forced an ugly smile. “You really are… straightforward.”

Cen Xiao scoffed softly, already poised to attack.

Before making his move, he said coldly, “I never claimed to be a good person.”

He had no lofty ambition to bring peace to the world, nor the kindness to save others.

But so what?

He was selfish, for one person.

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